Disclaimer: I DON'T FREAKING OWN LOTR. STOP ASKING, IT FREAKING HURTS.

AN: Sorry I haven't been very active. I will be from June-August (hopefully). This is just a little drabble/writing prompt. Long story short Comet decided to gamble with me and I always lost, which meant I had to write whatever she wanted. This was one of the products.

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"Estel! Estel…?"

Legolas moved lightly and quickly from tree to tree, running over the newly fallen leaves. Aragorn, nearing age nine, had wandered off, so lucky Legolas had to find him. Again.

Finally, he was hit over the head with a slight branch. He looked up into the nearing-bare branches. "Estel…?"

Bubbly laughter came from the trees. "Princeling Legolas, can you dare reach me?" He saw Aragorn's taunting clever eyes twinkle down at him. He was fairly high up. A weight settled in his stomach as he thought of the child falling. He shook his head, sighing.

"Come down youngling!" he called gently. "No!" came the stubborn retort.

Legolas sighed again, pinching his nose. "Fine. What is your challenge, young sir?" He saw Aragorn pause for a second.

"Race me to the top!" Legolas fumed silently. He knew that this would be what was asked of him. Curse the danger seeking child!

He pulled himself up a couple branches, seeing Aragorn not move, watching him teasingly. He was a few branches away when suddenly he pulled himself to a standing position, chin-long hair blowing in the slight breeze. His smile sent a nervous up rise in Legolas. What was he planning?

He knew that this child would become the bane of his existence later on. What would the man get him into when he was older and allowed to roam? Elbereth only knew.

He grabbed the next branch, which was right under Aragorn's foot. And that's when it happened.

Lightning fast, Aragorn scrambled up ten more light branches. Legolas stopped, agape, looking at his young charge.

"Too fast for you, Princeling?" Aragorn said mockingly. Legolas heaved a heavy sigh, going up another branch. "When I was as young as you in mortal years, my father would kill me if I left home. He would send out rounds of guards to seek me out, Estel, and he would bring me home unscathed. I fear you shall fall if you go much further, and I will be known as the one that let you."

Aragorn stuck his tongue out at him. "No, you're just making excuses. You're just too slow. I thought you Elves were fast!"

That lit something in the Elf Princeling. He, quick as a flash, shot up several more branches. He now looked Aragorn in the eye, who gave a shout, scrambling up a couple more. Now they were neck in neck as they raced each other.

"Give it up, Estel!" "Try me, Princeling!" "Come on!" "You're no fun, Leggy-poo." "What did you call me?" "Nothing!" he called back quickly. He swung, upside down, to the branch below him, where Legolas stood.

Legolas looked at the upside down king-to-be. He puffed, blowing a strand of hair out of his face, and into Aragorn's. "Estel, you must stop." "Wimp!" he jeered, swinging down onto Legolas's branch completely. He put his hands on his little hips, posing at him.

"Estel, come on now, we must leave. It's getting late." "Fine," Aragorn sighed, heaving yawn – he normally would've been asleep in bed by now. "But as the winner, you have to carry me."

"Of course," Legolas said with a light smirk, lifting the young child in his arms. He knew, one day, perhaps soon, he would not be able to carry the king-to-be home.

Maybe, if his everlasting life did come to an end… the child of Gondor would be the one to carry him home.

...

AN: Cute, isn't it? :)